Setting Forth from Portsmouth – The Road to Jerez Part 1

At the close of this summer, Hawkridge’s Phil and James embarked from Portsmouth alongside Cripps & Co’s Harry Henriques, Fred Hicks, and Alex D’Elia on a journey to discover the casks that will shape Hawkridge’s and Cripps’ future spirits—tracing each barrel back to the very place its story begins. Their travels led them through sunlit vineyards, historic cellars, and working cooperages across France and into southern Spain, where they met the craftsmen behind the craft and hand-selected the wine and sherry barrels destined to nurture their spirits in the years to come.

There’s a certain magic to an early afternoon start on the English coast. The air at Portsmouth that day was crisp with sea salt and anticipation – three sports cars gleaming under a pale September sun, ready to carry us south toward Spain. For Hawkridge Distillers and our good friends at Cripps & Co, this was more than a road trip. It was a pilgrimage in pursuit of oak, of provenance, and of the perfect casks to elevate English whisky to something truly extraordinary.

We had spoken for months about this journey. Not a simple sourcing trip, but a quest to meet the craftsmen behind the barrels – to see where their stories begin, to touch the wood that would one day cradle our spirit. The idea that a cask carries history in its grain has always fascinated us. Wine, sherry, air, and time.. all leave traces that, when reawakened by whisky, create something far greater than the sum of its parts.

As we rolled onto the ferry at Portsmouth, the Channel stretched before us like a gateway. England disappeared into mist, and France awaited – a land of vineyards, cooperages, and centuries-old cellars. Our destination lay far to the south, in Jerez, the heart of sherry country. But first there would be stops, conversations, and discoveries.

The journey promised fine roads, fine company, and fine purpose – a blend not unlike a well-balanced whisky. And as the ferry engines hummed and the white cliffs receded, I felt that quiet excitement that comes only when setting off in search of something rare.

The road to Jerez had begun.